Our Lego House of Love, Ziall Horlik FanFiction x
by IAmADirectioner
Summary: It always comes as a shock when - and if - you find out whom exactly you love. And if it hadn't been for all those Lego brick moments, Niall would've never built up to the moment when he DID find out. But even Lego houses can fall, sometimes. Ziall Horlik, FICTION. Dedicated to feelsforbreakfast and CarrotsxSuperman.
1. Prologue - Present

It always comes as a shock when - and if - you find out whom exactly you love.

Niall was always quite conscious of the fact that there were more than seven billion people in this world, and it was an extremely high possibility to not meet the one you were meant to be with. Because if you're only one in seven billion, chances are, you won't be able to find that Someone in a mass of seven billion minus one. It would be like, as Harry once described, trying to seperate the colors of a rainbow; practically impossible (unless you went through the tedious task of taking a high-quality picture of the rainbow, then zooming in such a way that the lines were not blurred yet were close enough to distinguish the fine strip between red and orange. So yes, practically impossible.)

So Niall was never a strong believer in true, true love; rather, he was infatuated by the idea of it, but he didn't think he would find his soulmate.  
Much less did he ever think it wouldn't be a girl.

Because although Harry was (closet) gay, and he had absolutely nothing against homosexuality, he had implicit faith in the fact that real True Love was between members of the opposite gender, because that was how it had been since the very beginning, wasn't it?  
So, obviously, Niall would look at Liam and Danielle, and Louis and Eleanor, and feel his heart smile, so much, it hurt, because they looked very much like True Love. When he looked at Harry and HIS boyfriend - which, infact, was Josh Devine, their drummer - his heart would smile differently, with a different sort of pain. Because, like it or not, gay couples were different from straight ones, even if it wasn't a bad difference.

Little did Niall know, it was the second sort of heart-smiling that would become a part of himself - the part which mattered most to his utter being.

It all started that one day, on January 7th, 2012, when Zayn and Harry went out for a snowball fight.


	2. January 7th

_January, 7th._

"Come ON, Liam!" Harry yelled enthusiastically through the window pane, as he cupped his hands around his face and peered inside at Liam, who was lying down on the sofa with Danielle, all tangled up.

"I'm good!" Liam called back, sounding amused. Niall looked at Harry, who pouted and then winced as a snowball came tumbling through the air and collided with his head. Snow dripped down his curly hair, pulling it (believe it or not) in to even tighter curls, that knitted a halo around his flushed face.

Niall just caught Zayn's face behind Harry, who was obscuring all sight through the window. He looked triumphant.

"You're going down, Styles!" Zayn cheered.

Harry grinned at Niall, waggling his eyebrows, before turning to face Zayn's ultimate snowball wrath.

"In your dreams, Malik!" he hooted. He bent down, and, based on Niall's guess (he wasn't superhuman, he couldn't see what Harry was doing beyond the sight through the glass), started scooping up some fluffy snow.  
It had just snowed that morning, so, at the sight of the fresh blanket of white on the lawn in front of their holiday house, Zayn and Harry became childishly excited and immediately demanded to be let outside.

Louis, Liam and Niall himself had passed, mainly because Louis was still in bed, Liam was preoccupied, and Niall... well, Niall just hadn't been in the mood.

Niall smiled warmly at their innocent playfulness from where he was sitting; the window seat. He stretched out on the roomy cushions, and began reading a book he had recently bought due to incessant fan recommendation - Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. Zayn's, Liam's and the fans' constant insistence for him to just try and read the Harry Potter series had finally cracked his resolve, and he bought his very own copy yesterday.

He was on the third page, and feeling rather disinterested - _there wasn't any sign of Harry Potter yet, so that kind of defeated the purpose of the book being named after him...?_ - when suddenly, Harry (Styles)'s face pressed up against this window. Niall jumped with a start.

Harry cackled, muffled by the glass. "Come on outside, Ni!"

"I'm not going outside with you two on the loose, you twat," Niall scoffed. "You'd pelt me with snowballs till my death!"

"Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease?" Harry whined. "I'm losing from Zayn, and I need a sidekick!"

Niall pretended to take offence. "Is that all I am? Just a sidekick? Don't expect any help from me now, Styles."

"Sidekicks don't get pelted with snowballs!" Harry groaned, trying to make up for his slip. "I didn't mean you weren't important!"

"I'm not important, either?" Niall asked, feigning sadness and anger. He spoke over Harry's protests. "Humph! I'm never talking to you again!"

He stuck his tongue out at Harry, who was complaining about the unfairness of Niall's comments, and turned his back against the window, not quite leaning against it, laughing, and continued reading.

Harry's complaints soon stopped, and, if Niall hadn't just reached an interesting part in the first chapter, he would have heard Harry carefully unlatching and raising the window.

It was only when a cold gust of wind slithered right past Niall's back, that Niall turned around in surprise. "W - "

Hands seized his waist, and yanked him carelessly through the open window, while he shrieked.

Unfortunately, due to Harry's carelessness, Niall slipped from his grip and fell awkwardly on the snow. Pain burned bright in his ankle.

"OUCH!" he shouted. He let loose a few choicy swear words, rolling around in the packed ice.

"Oh no!" Harry shrieked. "Niall! Niall, speak to me! ARE YOU DEAD!?"

"No, you ..." he swore some more. "But my ankle is -" censored swear words... " - killing me, ouch, crap, oh..."  
More vituperation spilled from his lips, as he clutched at his painfully throbbing leg.

"Help me up," he gasped.

Harry reached for him, but then someone nudged him out of the way.

"I think I should try, Haz," Zayn said gently, yet pointedly.

"Okay," Harry said, looking sad and anxious. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Niall."

Niall threw Harry a sarcastic smile. "No, Hazza, I bet you meant to drop me like a burning sack on the floor and possibly break my ankle. Very you - OH, HOLY -!"

That comment did not end as planned, as Zayn had tried pulling Niall to his feet and because of the icy snow on his gloves, had dropped him as well, and so Niall had experienced an obviously painful moment.

"Okay. Okay," Zayn breathed, thoughtful. "Niall, Harry and I both are going to hoist you to your feet, and then, he's gonna grab a wheel chair from inside - " (Yes, they had a wheelchair inside, for some strange reason... Louis had found it in the closet on the first day) " - and then we're going to wheel you inside. All right?"

"Can I just - ouch - keep sitting till we get the wheelchair?" Niall whimpered, leaning in to Zayn's shoulder behind him.

"Well..." said Zayn, eyebrows knitted together.

"Just check out my ankle and see if it's bruised or what," added Niall quickly, panting slightly from the pain. He felt a bit dizzy.

"Okay," Zayn surrendered.

Harry muttered something under his breath, smirking.

Zayn swore at him a bit, too, though why, Niall knew not. Probably about what Harry had just muttered, though he didn't hear it. "Just get the chair, Harry," Zayn scolded.

"Sheesh." Harry darted inside for the wheelchair.  
Zayn gently got up and knelt by Niall's ankle. Cautiously, he rolled up Niall's pajama leg.

"Oh, mother of pain," Niall muttered. "That hurts like a dog." Only he didn't say pain, or dog.

"Shhh," Zayn comforted him. "Harry's coming out in a right second."

Unfortunately, there was a loud clattering crash, indicating that it wouldn't take simply a 'right second'.  
Niall's teeth chattered, as he began to feel more light-headed. His body was finally reacting to the freezing temperatures, which certainly did not numben the pain in his ankle.

"Z-Zayn," he whispered, "I'm feeling d-dizzy..."

Zayn glanced up at Niall and his pale face, and immediately darted towards his head.

"Oh, gosh," Zayn breathed, as he slipped off his jacket and laid it lopsidedly on the snow. Niall couldn't protest as Zayn laid his head and upper chest on the jacket. Niall shuddered and closed his eyes, trying to get his bearings. His light-headedness decreased.

Zayn clutched at Niall's fingers, rubbing at them with his open-fingered gloves, blowing on them anxiously. "HARRY, HURRY THE HELL UP!" he shouted.  
The throbbing in Niall's ankle decreased ever so slightly. Or maybe he was just getting used to it.

"Cold." The word escaped Niall's lips without his knowing.

"I know, I know," Zayn said, his voice edged with panic. He pulled Niall towards him (totally contradicting his last move, but Niall really coudn't protest. He was colder than he was dizzy) and, propping him up in his lap, rested Niall's head in the crook of Zayn's neck. His arms wrapped themselves around Niall's waist and enveloped him in an embrace.  
Niall relaxed in to the radiating warmth of Zayn's body. Zayn, he thought, had a nice, not bony, not too muscular, but just right, body. Perfect for lying in.

His head lolled to the side, nudging Zayn's neck. When he inhaled, he smelled something... nice. A mixture of musky cologne, fruity shampoo, fresh cocoa, and something totally unnameabley Zayn-like.

"You okay?" Zayn asked him quietly. His chest rose and fell gently.

"Okay," Niall replied, wincing at a certain throb in his ankle.  
Then he looked up to catch Zayn's eye.

His face was creased with worry. He was chewing his lip, like he always did when he was thinking or worried. His teeth were stark white against his blossom-colored lips. His skin was flushed (from the previous snowball fight, Niall supposed) and eyebrows knitted together. But what really caught Niall were his eyes.  
His eyes, like multiple flavors of chocolate, all melting in to one another. With darker, slightly spiky eyelashes framing them. With small pupils squinting directly in to Niall's own eyes. With mysterious beauty lurking in their depths.  
And even though this all took place in a moment, it felt like an eternity.

Zayn was looking back at him, looking befuddled and perhaps scared, when Harry emerged with Liam, Danielle, and the wheelchair.

"... and then I went to get the wheelchair from upstairs in the closet but then everything fell out and fell down the stairs, and I couldn't get down without cleaning the stuff up, so I put everything back..." it seemed like Harry was explaning to Liam what had happened. He looked on the verge of panicking. "... and I think his ankle is broken!"

Niall's head snapped towards them, as, he could tell, did Zayn's. The short, fragile moment had been broken in a gust of wind.

"Niall!" Liam said sharply, striding towards him. Danielle took the wheelchair from Harry, who bounded towards the three of them with gusto. Louis was probably still sleeping. "How're you feeling?"

"Well, I was feeling a bit dizzy and cold, but now I'm better," said Niall quickly. "But my ankle still hurts like crap." (He did not actually say crap, though.)

"Poor darling," Danielle said, looking upset. "Boys, hurry up and get him on the chair, so we can bring him in and get him something hot to eat."

Mommy Direction. Honestly.

"Not inside," Zayn said sharply, startling Niall. "I've looked at his ankle, it's not pretty. He needs to go to the hospital."

"We'll bring a doctor here, Zayn," Liam said dismissively.

"Then hurry!" The ferocity in Zayn's voice was disconcerting to Niall, but he rather liked it.

Danielle pulled out her phone, and rang someone up, while Liam, Zayn, and Harry hoisted Niall in to the wheelchair. With, of course, a short list of swear words accompanying them.

Liam began pushing the wheelchair inside, Harry and Danielle behind them, Zayn leading the way. He opened the door, and, while Liam and Niall passed through, planted a kiss on Niall's cheek. For some reason, Niall blushed.

"You'll be okay," Zayn promised.

It turned out just to be a badly sprained ankle, which would fix up in a few weeks or so. Atleast, that's what the doctor said. Niall was content, because he could just laze around and eat and watch TV and... yeah.

Nothing else happened between Zayn and himself.


	3. March 19th

_2 months later - March, 19th.  
_  
Niall, Zayn, and Louis were watching _The Lorax_, which had just come out, and Louis only insisted on watching it because he was highly interested in the actual Lorax. (You know, the orange munchkin with a beard and mustache.)

"My popcorn's finisheddddddddd," Louis whined.

"Get some more," Niall replied.

"For me too," Zayn added.

Louis frowned. "Can't you get me some, Zayn?"

"Er. No," Zayn retorted, snickering. "I can steal from Niall's."  
Niall heard this, yet chose to ignore it. Because, yeah, for some reason, he allowed Zayn to steal some of his eatables.

"And I can't?" Louis questioned. Zayn shook his head in response. And Louis began reaching for Niall's bowl, quietly, stealthily.  
However, Niall smacked it away before it came a foot closer.

"Hands off the popcorn," he warned. "MINE."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zayn grin, then pluck a kernel out of his bowl and toss it in his mouth.  
Louis witnessed this with a fallen jaw.

"You are unspeakably cruel," he shot at Niall, then stomped (very dramatically and sassily, it might be added) to the kitchen to make more popcorn.

Zayn laughed, properly, and Niall cracked a smile as well. "Why do you let me steal from your popcorn anyway, Niall?" Zayn asked him.

"I don't know," Niall replied, uncertainly. The he grew mischevious. "Maybe I shouldn't let you."

"No, I like stealing your food," Zayn said earnestly.

"No, it's unfair to the other lads," Niall said, faking contemplation. "I can't let you."

"Oh, Ni!" complained Zayn.

"I'm sorry, Zayn, but it's not right to the other boys!" Niall exclaimed, hugging his bowl.  
Zayn pouted and began reaching for Niall's popcorn.

"Zayn," Niall warned. "No touchy."

Zayn grinned and reached further. Niall pulled his bowl as far from Zayn as possible. "Zayn!" Niall fake-huffed. "You can't reach it now."

Zayn drew himself a little closer. "Who said I was going for the popcorn?" Zayn whispered mischeviously, before pulling Niall down on the floor with him, sending popcorn flying. Niall fell with a thud on the carpet, and immediately began squirming.

"Zayn!" he yelped.

Zayn got up and straddled his waist, leaning down, with laughter in his eyes. Zayn, Niall realized, had been playing along since the beginning.

"Zayn," Niall growled. "Geh. Off. Mey."

"Only if you let me eat your popcorn," Zayn replied, smirking.

"Fine," Niall sighed, first huffily, then trailing off in to uncertainty.  
Because they were back how they were two months ago; with him looking up in to Zayn's eyes; with Zayn looking down in to his... and he was lost all over again. Because Zayn's eyes _hid_ something. They hid something infinitely beautiful and Niall just wanted to see it.

And Zayn looked lost and vulnerable and scared... and it was unbearably lonesome.

Then came the moment where Louis barged in, and in shock, the two jumped apart - Zayn banging his head on the coffee table. "CRAP!" he yelped.  
This, despite the previous tension, sent both Niall and Louis in to hysterics.  
_The Lorax_ was left to its lonesome.


	4. April 2nd

_April, 2nd._

"I hate April Fools day," Liam informed them for the twentieth time in the past 24 hours. It was 10:02 a.m (Niall had just checked his phone), and Liam's finger was bandaged like a club in the cartoons.

"We said we were sorry, Li," Louis said, rolling his eyes.  
Yesterday, the boys decided to play a prank on Liam... well, let's just say, it involved whipped cream, cricket bats, a skateboard, and ended up with Niall sprawled in the bathtub, Louis breaking a TV, and Liam with a broken finger.

Obviously, Liam hadn't been pleased.

"Well, my finger hurts!" Liam whined.

"Gosh, Li," Zayn said, rolling his eyes. "What do you want me to do, kiss it better?"

A strange expression crept over Liam's face. "Sure."

Zayn blinked, looking rather surprised. He chanced a glance at Niall, then Harry, who was stifling an evident grin, though Niall didn't find much amusing in the situation.

"Come ON, Zaynie, my finger aches," Liam pouted.  
Zayn sighed, then, with another glance around, leaned forward and gently kissed Liam's finger.  
Niall, for some reason, winced unmistakably.

"What's wrong, Niall?" Harry asked, smiling in a knowingly way.

"Huh?" Niall said blankly. Then he focused. "Oh, erm, nothing. Nothing 't all."

Zayn smiled crookedly at Niall, who returned the grin, despite being confused beyond his knowledge. It was just, Niall decided, a random thing.


	5. May 3rd

_May, 3rd._

Niall went prancing happily to Harry's room, beaming. Afternoon sunlight fell on the carpeted hallway through the window. He was about to tell him that he had discovered where his lost sneakers were (for some reason, Niall really, really liked those shoes) when he stopped outside his door.  
He could hear... voices. With an _s_ at the end.

And crying.

Niall didn't even bother trying to eavesdrop - he barged right in. He didn't even care about the probability that it was Harry and Josh curled up on the sofa watching _Titanic._ He just_ hated_ tears.  
Harry's head whipped around to look at Niall in surprise, hair in his eyes. He was certainly not crying, and _Titanic_ was certainly not on.

Niall caught sight of Zayn on the bed, ducking away, hiding his face. A sob was heard.  
He bounded towards Zayn and fiercely tackled him in to a hug, propelling them both on to the mattress of the bed.  
Niall could tell Zayn was surprised, but he just couldn't help it. He absolutely hated it when anyone cried, he would tear up himself. It hurt him, like someone was clutching a leash on his neck and it would only loosen when the person stopped weeping.

Harry slunk out of the room.

"Please don't cry," Niall said earnestly, upset, limbs wrapped around Zayn like a koala. "I'll do anything, please, you're one of my best friends, just don't cry."

And then Zayn was crying even harder than before, and he was hugging Niall back, and Niall had started crying a little as well, and it was all just a bunch of tangled emotions which he couldn't quite place, or understand. But he could feel Zayn's tangible warmth, and his soft skin, and everything, because they were just so close, and Zayn didn't seem inclined to move. Niall wasn't either.

"Why are you crying?" Zayn asked, with another sob.

"Because you are," Niall said hopelessly, sniffling. "And I never, ever want you to have to cry alone."

So they both cried for a while, with Zayn clutching on to Niall like a lifeline, and Niall was willing to be the lifeline if Zayn would just stop weeping.

In a while, he did stop crying, as did Niall. Niall clutched at Zayn's arms, worried. "Are you going to tell me...?" he whispered.

Zayn shook his head fiercely, then slower, releasing tear drops from the claws of his eyelashes. He traced a tear line on Niall's face, making Niall's stomach squirm.

"Not... yet," Zayn whispered back. "But I will, I promise."

"I'll hold you to it," Niall replied softly.

Zayn let out a light, soft laugh. "C-can..." he trailed off, and Niall waited in earnest. "Can you stay here? For a while?"

Niall looked deep, deep in to his eyes - the mystery had unclouded slightly with the wash of tears. Ultimately, he decided to find out what was beyond the clouded sheath of mystery in Zayn's eyes. "Of course," Niall said simply.

So, as he stroked Zayn's hair and whispered sweet nothings in to his ears, Niall watched Zayn fall asleep... thinking it was, strangely yet undoubtedly, one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen.


End file.
